Kate Pearce - Simply Wicked

“Of course I won’t tell her. Now come along, we’ll try the door together.”

Anthony followed the maid over to the door and waited as she tried to turn the handle.

“It’s locked, sir.”

“So it is. Well, I suppose that means the lady doesn’t want any visitors tonight.”

The maid rummaged in the pocket of her apron. “But I have the key for this door, sir.”

“Of course you do.”

Anthony thought about sending the maid away, but realized he was far more interested in seeing if Marguerite was in bed than the maid was. And for God’s sake, he wasn’t going to do anything, just check that she was indeed where she said she would be and leave.

“Try it then.”

The door opened with a soft click, and Anthony and the maid peered into the gloom. Marguerite’s familiar flowery scent invaded Anthony’s nostrils, and he breathed in deep.

“I can’t see her, sir.”

“Neither can I.”

Anthony’s throat tightened as he realized the elusive perfume was the only evidence of Marguerite in the room. Heat coiled in his body, leaving him shaking and almost light-headed. He looked down at the maid.

“I’m sure she’ll do without your services tonight. Leave the clothes by the bed, and tell Cook your lady was asleep and didn’t need your help at all.”

“But isn’t that a lie, sir?”

He forced a smile. “Not really, she’s probably fallen asleep in one of her friend’s rooms, so I doubt she’ll be back until the morning. I know she wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble on her account.”

Anthony fished in his pocket and found half a crown, held it out to her, keeping his tone light and unconcerned. “Take this for your trouble and get yourself to bed. You probably have to be up early in the morning.”

The maid studied the coin and then Anthony. “That’s very kind of you, sir, but my mother said never take money from a gentleman, because before you know it, he’ll be taking liberties with you.”

Anthony managed a laugh and walked back to the door leading into the main hallway. “Not this gentleman.” He opened it with a flourish and tossed her the coin. “Your mother is a wise woman. Good night my dear.”

She walked past him with exaggerated care. He wasn’t sure if she feared he’d ravish her or take the money back. Either way, he wanted to reassure her that nothing would happen.

“Good night, sir, and thank you.”

His smile vanished as he closed the door behind her. Where the hell was Marguerite, and what the devil was he supposed to do now?

“Ah, there you are, Lady Justin. Or may I call you Marguerite? We are practically related.”

Marguerite halted at the entrance to the snug kitchen. Lord Minshom sat by the open fireplace, an earthenware mug cradled in his hands, one booted foot propped up on the scrubbed pine table. There was no sign of the real occupants of the lodge, although a fire burned in the hearth and a kettle steamed on the stove as if waiting for their return.

“Where is Sir Harry?”

“Oh, he’s not here yet. He’s supposed to arrive tomorrow evening on his way back to the coast.”

“Then why did you ask me to meet you here?”

Lord Minshom leaned back in his chair and stared up at her. The smile in his eyes died. “To see if you were capable of obeying orders. Many women promise much and fail to deliver.”

Marguerite fingered the knife in her pocket, trying to remember all the places she might wound an unsuspecting man and render him helpless.

“Well, I’ve proved I’m punctual, so I’ll bid you good night.”

Minshom slowly shook his head as if admonishing a child. “There’s no need to be so abrupt. Don’t you want to share some of this excellent coffee with me? I’m sure you’re chilled from your walk.”

“Not really.”

“You don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t trust you, sir.”

“Fair enough.”

Marguerite tensed as Lord Minshom got to his feet. Even though he wasn’t a particularly big man, the small kitchen seemed to shrink around her.

“Isn’t there anything you’d like to ask me about, say Anthony Sokorvsky, for example?”

“Any explanations I need can come from him.”

“So he hadn’t told you much about our relationship then?”

“He’s told me everything I need to know. That it is in the past.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “And if I tell you that as far as I am concerned, I still own him, will that change your opinion?”

“You cannot ‘own’ another person, sir.”

“Really? Not even if they offer themselves to you, body and soul?”

Marguerite took a step back and came up against the door frame. “No, sir.”

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” Lord Minshom observed her through narrowed eyes, and she tensed for flight. “Perhaps you and I can sit down and work out a more civilized arrangement. It’s not as though Sokorvsky would mind being shared, is it?”

“Good night, Lord Minshom.”

He blew her a kiss. “Good night, Marguerite. I’ll expect you tomorrow at the same time.”

“And will Sir Harry be here?”

Minshom shrugged. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

Marguerite turned on her heel and left with as much dignity and speed as she could muster. Fear trickled an icy path down her spine as if she feared a knife or a shot in the back. Minshom was indeed a devil. She hardly knew him, and yet she was slightly afraid of him. If Anthony had really been in his clutches, how had he survived?

She slowed to a walk as the sturdy walls of the main house came into view. She needed Anthony to help her deal with Lord Minshom, but after her earlier panicked dismissal, did she still have the right to ask for his aid? If she went to him now, explained herself and told him the truth, would he turn from her in disgust?

She twisted her hands together. Why was it so hard to make up her mind? She really needed to stop vacillating. It wasn’t surprising that no one took her seriously.

Marguerite took a deep breath and stared up at the outline of her bedroom window. For the first time in her life, she didn’t want to wait to confront Anthony; she was tired of waiting for people to acknowledge her. She opened the back door into the house and headed straight up the servants’ stairs. Despite the relatively short time since her departure, the house was quieter and more settled.

A faint light flickered under Anthony’s door. Marguerite whispered a prayer of thanks. She’d go into her own room, change into her night things and risk Anthony’s wrath by invading his room through the connecting door between them. At least she wouldn’t have to stand out in the hallway knocking and quietly begging to be let in.

She undressed quickly, warmth stealing over her as her body adjusted to the temperature of the room and shook off the coldness of the night. Should she take her hair down? She glanced at her pale reflection. Of course she should. If she was pretending she’d woken up and come to Anthony’s room in a sudden fit of remorse, she’d better look as if she had been sleeping.

Her fingers closed around the handle of the door that separated their suites. To her surprise, the latch clicked open before she could even insert the key. Had she forgotten to lock it after all, or had someone been into her room? She pushed the door until she could see into Anthony’s room, relieved that it didn’t creak.

Only one candle illuminated the space. Anthony sat by the fire, his face in profile. His white cravat and coat hung over the back of the chair and his boots had been kicked off. Gathering all her courage, Marguerite stepped into the room, the wooden floor cold on her bare feet until she reached the comfort of the fireside rug.

“Anthony?”

He didn’t look up, just continued to stare into the fire, one hand moving rhythmically in the shadows of his groin. Marguerite moved closer until she faced him and could see exactly what he was doing. His fingers were wrapped around his erect cock, which was itself wrapped tightly in leather straps.

“What are you doing?”

“You informed me that you were unavailable so I decided to pleasure myself.”

Marguerite bit her lip at his flat tone. “You do not seem to be enjoying it.”

His smile wasn’t reassuring. “Trust me, I am.”

She gestured at the tight binding around his cock. “It looks painful.”

“It is.”

“Is this for my benefit? Who exactly are you punishing? Am I supposed to feel guilty because I wouldn’t let you into my bed?”

He shrugged. “If you like. It’s as good a reason as any to excuse my perversions.”

“I wanted to talk to you, but perhaps I should wait until the morning.”

“Perhaps you should.”

The anger and frustration she hadn’t dared to show Minshom coalesced like a fist in her chest. There was obviously no other way to get his attention than to finish this. She stepped between his open thighs and grabbed his wrist, stilling his movements.

“Unless you’d rather I helped you ‘enjoy’ yourself?”

He raised his head and looked at her for the first time. Lust and anger swirled in his blue gaze, held her prisoner and made her swallow hard. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I’m sorry for walking away from you this evening? Because I want to see how you taste?”

He shuddered so violently she felt it through her fingers on his wrist.

“Do what you want.”

Marguerite sank to her knees and stared at his straining leather-clad shaft and balls. Pre-cum seeped through the strips, darkening the leather, especially at the crown. She touched the strap that curved under his balls.

“Where did you find the leather?”

“In my luggage.”

“You brought the straps with you for this purpose?”

“No. It’s simply a spare strap used to secure luggage in the curricle. It just happened to suit my needs.”